


The Best I Can Do

by dismalzelenka



Series: And the Sky Will Burn [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Calm Before The Storm, DWC Prompt, F/M, Married Idiots In Love, Modern Kirkwall AU, Modern Thedas, Politics, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 14:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismalzelenka/pseuds/dismalzelenka
Summary: "for dadrunkwriting 'time' plus marian/anders? <3" from apostatetabrisHis breath was warm as his lips ghosted across hers. “I’m with you, love,” he whispered, capturing her mouth with slow, reassuring kisses. “Always. You know that.”“Always,” she whispered back.She knew he meant it. He always meant it. But time had a habit of making liars out of everyone.





	The Best I Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place before the protest in [Chapter 32](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634084/chapters/38038310) of [Your Arms Feel Like Home.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634084/chapters/33822852)
> 
> It works as a standalone, but the political context will make a lot more sense if you've read the main fic.

“Ouch!”

Rylee giggled at Anders’ plaintive whine as she popped him lightly in the head with her right fist. “You know those things attached to your shoulders? I think they call them … arms, I believe. You can lift them.”

Anders scowled. “Love, I adore you, but this practice is absolutely barbaric.”

She sucked in air through her lips appreciatively as she appraised the way she’d dressed him for their impromptu bout of training. Grey sweatpants concealed his long, lanky legs, and the ratty band tee shirt with cut off sleeves she’d let him borrow displayed the muscular curves of his wiry arms in a way that made her want to do a whole lot more than just pin him to the ground in victory. Not to mention just how damn sexy his hands looked wrapped in athletic tape.

“One of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you jumped, and if I haven’t taught you how to stand your ground in a good old fashioned bar fight, well, that wouldn’t be very wifely of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Can’t I just glue their feet to the ground and hide behind you?” he teased.

Rylee felt a familiar anxiety crawl down her spine. “Anders, love…”

He held up a hand. “You would never ask me to hide my magic in public, but if one of ‘those fucking ex templar cop ass motherfuckers’ caught me, you don’t particularly fancy getting carted off to prison for a gory and gruesome murder.”

She snorted. “Just how often do I say that to you?”

“I have a particularly—“ he stepped forward and planted a kiss where her left ear met her cheek “—excellent—“ another kiss that nipped at the soft skin of her neck and sent a wave of pleasure course straight into her nethers “—memory.” Two more kisses, feather light and teasing against her exposed collarbone, and she forced down the gasp welling up in her throat.

“Hey,” she managed to whisper through an uncomfortably dry mouth. “That’s so utterly unfair.”

He took a step back and mirrored her earlier action, gently clipping her temple with the soft wrap around his knuckles. “Ah yes, I also remember you waxing poetic about bar fights being particularly unfair, too.”

She pushed him back with a light shove, the worried frown worming its way onto her lips despite her best efforts to keep her face neutral. “Things are getting worse out here, Anders. The Loyalist party introduced another bill this week proposing the reintroduction of the Solution for mages over the age of eighteen caught practicing magic in public—“

“Which was immediately shot down in an overwhelming vote against it,” he reminded her softly. She let him draw her in, taking comfort in his arms, in the way her shirt clung softly to the planes of his chest. “The public isn’t quite as keen to repeat history as the few extremists in Parliament would like you to believe.”

“It’s the fourth one proposed this year, and with Stannard up for the seat of Prime Minister…”

“You forget how much support the Underground is quietly drumming up for Orsino, love,” he murmured. “Stannard will take that seat over all of our dead bodies.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” she said softly. “If they take you, if they brand you, I … Anders, I can’t lose you. And—“ Her hand crept to the tiny, almost imperceptible curve of her stomach. “In a few months I won’t be able to step in and protect you. I need to know that if someone swings a punch at you, you won’t immediately do something that puts you in harm’s way. Fuck, Anders, please tell me you understand how important this is.”

“I do, love. I’m sorry for not taking this as seriously as you needed me to.” She felt his hands trail down the curve of her spine and settle at her waist before one hand trailed his fingers along her side and settled on her stomach. “Void, time passes so quickly,“ he whispered. “I never thought…”

“Me neither,” she murmured into his shoulder. A cheeky grin spread across her face, and she looked up to meet his honey-eyed gaze. “Want to place bets on who figures it out first?”

It was his turn to snort. “Isabela. She does so fancy seeing you naked. She’s bound to notice sooner than later.”

“Mm. Merrill has that weird supernatural sense for this sort of thing, though. She’d probably blurt it out at Wicked Grace night without even realizing she’s the first to know.” She paused. “Then again…my idiot cousin will probably drink us all under the table tonight and spill the news on accident, since someone enlisted her help to ‘keep an eye on me’ at the protest this weekend.” She poked his chest with an accusatory finger.

He rolled his eyes. “Did you forget what she does for a living? She’s basically a professional stalker; even if I hadn’t told her, she would have probably figured it out before everyone else anyway.”

Rylee sighed, the gravity of Kirkwall’s current political shit storm dragging her under the constant torrent of anxiety that ran through her mind. “Solona won’t always be around to look out for us either, you know. Way things are looking, I’m surprised she hasn’t gone back to Orlais to get her doctorate in … I don’t know, something else artsy. Just to grab a student visa and get the fuck out of here.”

“Rylee. Love.”

“We’re running out of time here.” She swallowed through the lump in her throat and cringed at the way her voice trembled when she spoke. “I know your people are good at quietly stirring things up, but if Stannard gets elected, we’re looking at the possibility of a full scale revolt. And I need to know that if that happens, you’re going to be able to fight tooth and nail to make it back to me, because this?” She felt tears spring to her eyes as she gestured to her belly again. “I have no idea how to be a mother, Anders. I cannot do this without you.”

His breath was warm as his lips ghosted across hers. “I’m with you, love,” he whispered, capturing her mouth with slow, reassuring kisses. “Always. You know that.”

“Always,” she whispered back.

She knew he meant it. He always meant it. But time had a habit of making liars out of everyone.

Eyes closed, she returned his kisses with desperation and silently offered up a prayer to a Maker she didn’t even believe in, to protect the man she did. It would never be enough, but for now, it was the best she could do.


End file.
